A Dwarf Would Understand
by odiedragon
Summary: Outing myself from the kink meme over on livejournal - though the request was fade to black, so no outright smut. Short one shot, post Archdemon. Sereda and Oghren have more in common than just their race....


Anonymity be damned! :D

* * *

_By the Stone... pickles? Why does it smell like pickles in here?_

The air certainly hadn't smelt of pickles when Sereda left the arl's estate earlier that day. It was strong too. She was rather amazed she noticed at all, given how numb she felt after the day's events. At least if it'd been a dwarven celebration being held in her honor, she could have blown off some steam in the Provings. Rancorous, gravely laughter exploded from the dining room.

"_I haven't been here in awhile... they changed the dining room!"_

Sereda cursed under her breath and bit her lip, fighting back tears. She wondered when, if ever, seemingly random triggers would set off her memories. Pushing the memory from her mind, she headed toward the noise.

At the end of the long, formal table sat Oghren and Bann Teagan. They must have slipped away from the celebration early. The rumor was that Anora herself issued a command to cut Oghren off from the ale by the castle staff. The why of it depended on who you spoke with, but knowing the ex-warrior caste man the way she did, she didn't doubt the truth beneath the whispers. Instead of ale however, the scent of pickles was even stronger in here.

"So when the Queen cuts you off, you go crying to the Bann for more. Typical, Oghren. Just typical." She shook her head and _tsk_ed, over-doing the gesture and smiling broadly.

"Eh? Is that you, Warden?" Oghren squinted in Sereda's general direction.

"This surface ale will be the death of you, I swear." Sereda turned to Bann Teagan and nodded. "So, tell me Teagan. Who tasked you with babysitting the dwarf?"

Teagan smirked. "Actually, I took the task on myself. I wanted to test the fortitude of your people, and Oghren here was more than happy to oblige." The human nobleman was drinking from an ornate wine glass, and clearly was not keeping pace with her compatriot.

"And I've just about finished the entire sodding barrel as well! Never bet against a dwarf, son. You'll always end up losing your shirt."

"Why Oghren! And here I thought you didn't like the idea of spending time around half-naked men! You and the elf been doing more than trading barbs, perhaps?"

"Whut?" Oghren glared at Sereda. "Just because they wanna make you a Paragon don't mean you're allowed to insult my honor!" He pushed back the chair from the table, attempting to stand. A failed attempt, for the dwarf fell to the floor. "HA! ASSCHABS!"

Sereda and Teagan both lent a hand to the fallen man. "Been sittin' in that sodding chair for too long! Let the asschabs get me."

Teagan looked at Sereda. "A dwarven affliction, I take it?"

"Oghren is an affliction onto himself," Sereda replied with a shrug. "Come on you drunken nug-licker, lets get you to bed. You stink of ale and pickle juice."

"And I believe that means I win our little wager, my stout friend. I'll be by sometime tomorrow to collect," Teagan proclaimed, grinning wickedly.

"Bah! There's not much left in that barrel! Lemme at it, I'll polish it off right now!"

And he did. Though Sereda wondered how much actually went in his mouth over how much spilled onto his shirt.

* * *

"Don't trouble yourself, Teagan. I can handle him from here."

Teagan bowed slightly. "Just know that I am always available to you, if you were to have need of me."

Sereda smiled. "That is very kind of you to offer... but there is nothing you can help me with right now. I'm sorry."

_What I need right now I will not find with a human. No matter how strongly they may ooze passionate seduction._

"As you wish, my lady. I wish you good evening."

She closed the stout door before helping Oghren out of his stained shirt.

"Sooo, we're alone in my room and you're undressing me. Warden, I didn't know you had it in you!" Oghren beamed a drunken grin.

"You're drunker than a nug drowned in a keg of lychen ale."

"So what? After what we've been through, I think we deserve it. I'm surprised you're not more lost to the Stone yourself."

Sereda did not respond. She had thought about it, surely. But just the effort of living made her feel like a golem, her limbs, body, and heart seemingly made of solid stone. All she wanted to do was sleep, or to be left alone with her grief. Drinking had always been a pleasurable thing for her, not something she used to dull pain.

"Not all of us can trade our grief for the contents of a keg, Oghren."

"Aye, too true, too true..." With that, he sat down on the edge of the nearby bed. An odd silence filled the room.

"Ran out of witty retorts did you?" Sereda asked, crossing her arms as she spoke.

"You know, Warden..."

"Call me Sereda."

"Right. Sereda. You know, I wanted to say somethin' earlier, but there's always so many sodding people around... it's almost worse than Orzammar, 'cause they're all so bloody tall! Makes ya feel like a bronto in a pen at times, don't it?"

"Sometimes, yes," she agreed, smiling. "But you were going to say something?"

"Oh, right. You know, the whole thing, with the Archdemon. Shame it went down the way it did, I mean, with all the dying and all."

"That's...." Sereda was taken aback. "That's very kind of you Oghren. But I thought we were getting you to bed."

"Sod that bleeding nug! You went out of your way to help me find Branka, and even after the whole sodding mess was over you looked after me. If you... y'know, need anything, I'm your man."

Sereda smiled. "Which is surely not a veiled attempt to get yet another Paragon in your bed."

"Corse not! You're not a Paragon yet, eh? May not be yet for years, given the way the Assembly lets things sit and stew until they start growing moss."

She chuckled. "Indeed."

"But, still, Paragon or no... sometimes Warden, er, Sereda, sometimes y'just need something to help you forget, if only for a little while. If booze isn't your thing, well... I know of another way to shut your brain off for a bit and feel good." He chuckled.

_Yes, a dwarf would understand._ Dwarves fell in battle all the time, or more often, politics. Sex wasn't always about romantic platitudes and professions of love. She had loved Alistair for his innocence and purity in matters of love... though some part of her wished that she'd been strong enough to sacrifice that part of him in order to save his life.

_He's gone now though... and he would not want me wallowing in grief for the rest of my days. That's not why he sacrificed himself, I know this._

"So you gonna buck Oghren's bronto or not?"

She sat down next to him on the bed, a knowing smile on her face. "Only because you cleaned the herring out of your beard this morning."

His kisses tasted like pickles.


End file.
